Title: The Change - Chapter 16 of How Many Days
Disclaimer: Joss doesn't play with his toys anymore. Someone has to, dammit!
Rating: R
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Other, Willow/Giles, Willow/Other
Summary: Post-Season 7. This is a sequel to 'Don't Stop the Dance'
Distribution: Anywhere you like, just let me know.
Feedback: is welcome. xionin at beautiful-freak dot com
Thank you: Maribel dusty273, my amazing beta and amazing friend.
A/N: Finally, eh? I know, I know...LOL Alright, the fun begins. Hang on for the ride!

Don't know if I am here or there don't even really know my name
Am I holding on am I holding on will it always be the way
And the lips that kiss can also kill
The touch of love can take your soul
-The Police

The Change

Buffy knows that something is amiss the moment she steps through the door, moving from the comfortable warmth of the California sun and into and artificially frigid interior. It's just the way they look at her, like fresh meat; a lemming to their cliff. Sheep for their slaughter.

She does a quick survey of her surroundings - the garish brightness of the lights, the circles of colorful rags on steel rings and the beady eyes that follow her every move, from the first second that she enters.

Her eyes land on a tall, faux-brown man whose unabashed leering makes her skin crawl and her jaw clench. His blue-black hair is thick with gel, or perhaps oil, and it seems to have dripped onto his toothy grin. She braces herself for the inevitable.

"Hello, miss." As if it were possible, his smile becomes more repugnant as he approaches her.

Salesmen.

"Um, hi." Buffy can fake-smile with the best of them. She offers her brightest. "I was wondering how much that red bag is in the window? It looks like a Kate Spade, but I don't think it's…"

"Why yeeess. It is an authentic Kate Spade." He breezes by her, and she can almost count how many ounces of Old Spice he used during his morning's ablutions; six, if he used a drop. "We have many fine, fine Kate Spade bags, miss, in any color you can imagine." He stops abruptly, turning back to offer a knowing grin and lowers his voice as if sharing a secret he doesn't want the only other customer to hear. "Red is the hot color this season, that's why the high end stores charge more for it. But for you," he eyes her head to toe, lingering in the middle somewhere. Buffy's nostrils flare with annoyance and he offers a semi-apologetic smile. "For you, miss, I will cut you a deal." He winks.

"Thanks." She deadpans as he hands her the objet du désir.

"So, emmm, what say you to $79?" He hovers over her as she inspects it. "It's a bargain, you must agree."

"Yeah, that's not bad. Wait, this says Katie." Buffy shoves the bag into the man's face and he flinches.

"Yes, it is an original Katie Spade, miss." His smile is beginning to wither.

"But the designer's name isn't Katie, it's Kate. You're trying to sell me a knock-off!" Buffy moves towards him and he backs away in time with her steps.

"No no no, miss, I would never do such a thing. This here's a genuine Kate Spade, it's, um…just an irregular piece." Seeing the wheels turning in her head, he halts his retreat. "See, when they manufacture these for Ms. Spade, they sometimes make mistakes. So they sell them to shops like mine for less money."

Buffy ceases her glowering, taking a moment to ponder his logic. Sensing a victory, the man continues.

"So you see, since I get a deal, I can pass the savings on to customers like yourself." He bows slightly, as if to say 'tada!' Buffy inspects the seams on the piece.

"This looks like glue." She points to one corner where a spot of clear glue has dried into a ball.

"Don't be silly!" He grabs it from her, attempting to remove the offensive mark while still moving in for the kill. "It's probably from the packing box. Listen, miss, this is quality craftsmanship." He gives the bag a bit of showcasing that would make Vannah envious. "The same as you would see in Macy's or Bloomingdales, yes? Trust me, you won't regret it."

Squinting her eyes at him, Buffy takes the bag back and resumes her inspection.

"$50." She looks up at him and he laughs.

"Are you kidding? I really can't go below $70."

"Ok, $60. But that's my final offer." She arches her eyebrow for emphasis.

"I'm sorry, no can do. I have a family to feed. I have all of these employees to pay." He gestures towards his idle staff as if to prove his point.

"Well, do you feel like paying fines? 'Cause I'm pretty sure the authorities wouldn't mind a tip on some of this Gooci and Proda stuff you've got in here." She fingers a few of the other handbags on display. "What's that called; trademark something?"

"$50 will do fine, miss." The salesman's disgust is very thinly disguised, if at all, but Buffy beams triumphantly. She hands him a crisp, new $50 bill and clutches her prize with girlish glee.

"No need for a shopping bag." She smiles brightly. "Save a plastic tree."

"Thank you, do…come again."

"Sure!" She bounces out the door, leaving the man in a cloud of revulsion. Hopping back into her car, she grins to herself. Buffy starts the car, pulls out of the parking lot and signals her turn onto Interstate 10, heading east. Next stop, Hopefully-Not-Too-Evil Angel's.

Nothing follows-up bargain hunting like visiting an old flame.

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Willow's fingers are burning. She can almost feel the flesh cooking beneath her alabaster skin.

Goddess please help me, she silently prays. The enormity of what she is attempting to do has her stomach in knots. But outwardly, she is cold steel.

Then the wind stops. There is a confused silence in the group as the amulet dangles unremarkably from Willow's white fingers.

Dawn, who had been peeking through one golden eye, steps towards her. The witch's pale face is scrunched with uncertainty.

"Um…w-wasn't there, I mean…I thought it was working," Gunn inquires, but holds his place in the circle. Wes's trained eyes scan the room looking for any sign of the power that had been there. Angel is standing rigid; tense with anticipation. All is very quiet and very still.

"Too still." Giles warns. Colin murmurs an agreement.

"Shhh." Willow's low command hangs in the air as a collective hush develops. The amulet begins to swing in an arc from her fingers. From her to Dawn and back and forth. Back and forth. Back. Forth. All eyes follow the movement. Dawn reaches a tentative hand towards the object, the light from her eyes glowing and dimming in time with the thing.

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The sun is shining. The ocean is warm. Spike cannot recall this level of bliss. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve it; can't remember if perhaps he had done something worthy of this simple but glorious life. He knows he wouldn't trade it for the wide world. Laughter bubbles out from the center of his chest and, by the time Cassie reaches him in the water, he has flipped onto his back in a Dead Man's Float. He is truly happy. There's nothing above him but blue, blue sky. Cassie splashes him and it startles him out of his basking.

With a wicked gleam and a snarling smile, he marks his prey. Poised for an attack on his giggling companion, he is taken aback by the sudden look of panic in her eyes.

"Cass?"

Around where he treads, the water slowly changes from sea greens and blues to a brilliant yellow. Her eyes slide into his and he can see the tears forming in them. She offers a thin smile and a wilted wave. He looks down into the golden waters.

Then everything in his world turns black.

TBC - Chapter 17 - When the Angels Fall